Here We Go Again
by GreyMoth
Summary: Canada was not always polite and invisible; that happened after England got fed up and cursed him while drunk. Maybe it's time for that curse to end. kink meme fill


**This is from my kinkmeme fill of: Canada's personality is a curse. He's actually sarcastic and witty. I took this and ran... in a vertically-ish direction that ended up no where near where it should have. I fully admit to using this prompt as an excuse to write one of my own kinks. It goes with the song: Sex (I'm A) by Lovage, so PLEASE have it up when you hit 'that' scene. Thank you.  
**

* * *

_Finally._

The scrape and clatter of chairs being pushed back signalled the end of the meeting, or, as I like to put it, the end of Ludwig's control over the meeting. Not that he really had any control- that's kind of hard when Alfred has been known to break sound barriers just by talking- but he always tried. This time he made it two hours before Arthur had started snarling at Francis, and Feliciano had started to complain about being hungry. Which, of course, led to Gilbert- don't bother asking me how he snuck into the meeting- making jokes about how the Italian nation was lacking certain parts to actually be Elizabeth, and said female nation bringing out a frying pan. The rest of us took that as our cue to pack up before things ended up with broken walls, shattered windows, and concussions. Oh, and doggy piles; that had happened only once before and ended when Russia deciding that sitting on everyone would be a good bonding experience.

"Matt! Mattie? Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt, Matt, where are you? I need my keys, bro!" There was only one voice that could rise above this clamour, and I sighed in resignation even as my eyes darted to measure the distance to the doorway.

"I'm right here, Alfred," I muttered, and felt my shoulders tense under the warm pressure of his arm around them. He ignored it, probably didn't even notice, as his eyes flickered around to acknowledge all of the other countries that shouted farewells.

"You have the keys, right? I had thought a ghost might have gotten them or something!"

"_Or France's hands,"_ I grumbled back mentally, but the words never made it past my throat. Only a meek smile appeared in answer as I pulled out the specially cut bit of metal that controlled my neighbour's excessively expensive rental car. Apparently a 'hero' couldn't go anywhere unless he was in style, even if that style had gone the way of the westward sun about a hundred years ago, which was the case of his bomber jacket.

But you never heard that from me.

"Perfect. You good with driving?" He smiled innocently at me, a smile that I returned with a nod and a long look. He rarely asked me to drive, which was perfectly fine with me since I can only stand highway driving or off-roading, and when he did it meant that he was up to something. Like the time he wanted me to drive so that he could throw timbits at people. Our bosses had not been impressed.

"Deece," his arm tightened then relaxed, but never dropped the entire time he was steering me towards the door, "Oi, Iggy! Negative Oh H, right?"

England shouted something back that ended with a few curse words I haven't heard since he first found me, and the low hum of France's amused laughter.

"C'mon, Mattie. We got to go get ready for tonight! You brought something you can go partying in, right? 'Cause suits and shit ain't gonna cut it."

I very nearly sighed, and would have too, if Alfred hadn't insisted on trying to fit us both through the revolving door at the same time. I ended up hissing though my teeth instead when the metal frame of the door hit my arm hard enough to bruise, and decided something needed to be done to preserve my physical health. Wrapping my arm around his waist, I swung myself around so that I faced him, our eyes meeting for the few fleeting seconds it took the door to rotate, before I stepped back and out of his partial embrace.

"Oops," he laughed, "I forgot how small those things were."

"_More like how much space you take up_," I answered back silently, and went to go open the car door for him,

"It's okay," I finally mumbled out loud, smirking behind his back when he gave me that look he always did whenever I played the gentleman, "So, you're going to the bar tonight?"

"We are," he corrected absently as I got in and started the car, "Iggy had mentioned a new bar at lunch so a bunch of us are going tonight. I already said that you would come."

I couldn't help but blanch when I heard that it had been England's idea. Alfred may like drinking with him, but I sure as hell didn't; he had a bad habit of casting spells on whatever annoyed him. Most people- okay, everyone- laughed when he brought up his black magic, and I would too, if it weren't for the fact that it actually worked when he was drunk enough to black out.

It had been around 1766, just a few years after France had given up on keeping me and moved on to focus on Seychelles, that I had been focusing all of my hatred verbally at England. Granted it wasn't much, I was pretty young at the time, but it was enough to piss off my English founder to the point where he couldn't deal with it.

He'd been drinking that night and ranting about something Alfred had done when I made one too many snide comments. There wasn't any bright flash of light, tingly feelings, and I didn't pass out; in fact, I had no idea that something had happened until the next day at breakfast. Arthur had set himself up beautifully for one of my childish, snarky remarks, but no matter what I did the words just would not leave my mouth.

"- shots contest, so you better eat a ton before we go." Awwwwe shit. Alfred was talking, "Maybe we should stop by McDonalds on the way over. Do you think they will still be serving burgers after 10? They should be, burgers are awesome and should totally be-"

I've learned long ago that once Alfred got going on his 'favourite food group' there would be stopping him. He never listened anyways, and as long as I made a noise of agreement every now and then he would remember that he wasn't talking to himself for whatever reason. He never had given me a straight answer when I asked if he talked to himself often.

Wait.

"Shots contest?" I asked, my eyes darting from him to the traffic, which was driving on the wrong side of the road. (We're in London, if you hadn't already guessed.)

"What? Oh, yeah. Russia said something about a rematch when he heard me mentioning that I would bring you along. What did you do to get him so pissed?"

I shrugged, ignoring his curious and slightly worried gaze in favour of pulling into the hotel parking lot,

"Lars, Jack, and I were having a shots contest after the last meeting and Russia was there so we invited him to join us. I'm not sure why he is so upset; I mean, I was the last one to pass out, but he had been drunk before he joined us so it wasn't that amazing of a victory."

"You beat Netherlands and..."

"Australia," I supplied with a mental eye roll, putting the car into park and undoing my seatbelt.

"Yeah, Australia, at a shots contest? And Russia! How much can you drink?"

I just smiled and pressed the button for his seatbelt before reaching for the door handle and getting out,

"Would you mind being my stand in, or telling Russia I'm sorry but no? There's a hockey game tonight that I don't want to miss."

"Fuck no! Either one of those will end me up in a hospital. Do you not care for my health?"

"Of course I do!" I protested, albeit a bit weakly. Why did he think I was trying to help stabilize his economy? His health was my health. He acted like an ass and I got beat up in his place... maybe it would be a nice change to have our roles reversed. Scratch that, it definitely would be nice.

Alfred fell in step with me, complaining all the while about how I didn't love him, just as the glass doors to the hotel slid soundless open and let out a blast of cold air that invaded my lungs pleasantly and relaxed my muscles. My ever so glorious neighbour was not so comforted, if his actions were anything to go by I'd say he didn't notice the shift in temperature, and hurried over to the elevator. I took one more deep breath before following him, all the while grinning and trying not to snicker when he pushed the up button more times than necessary.

"C'mon, Matt," he whined, "I already promised everyone that you would be there, and we never go out anymore. I promise I won't forget you again."

It wasn't him leaving me at the bar that had me worried, it was what I would do around- or to- him while drunk.

When you've desperately wanted to get into someone's pants for 65 years, and had a crush on them for over a century before that, you start acting a bit stupid. Add an alcohol lowered guard into this and you have a recipe for an extremely embarrassing night.

My hand gently (read: roughly) pushed (shoved) him into the elevator even as I shook my head, "They won't notice if I'm not there so it doesn't matter if you've promised or not. Just go, have fun, and you can call me if you need a ride back to the hotel."

Well fuck it if he didn't turn on the puppy dog look. I may have been the one to think up Hollywood, but he was the one that took it to new heights and made it what it was.

"No," I said simply and turned to watch the floor numbers light up. But I could feel his gaze, even when the doors opened and we stepped out; I could feel those sky blue orbs drilling into my very soul. Without looking I knew the water works were starting, and two steps down the hall I was already getting dirty looks from the staff for making their All American Dream Boy cry.

"Alfred," I pleaded, finally looking at him when we reached our room. Why I did I agree to share a room with him? Oh yeah, my boss is obsessed with helping Alfred's economy stabilize. Fucking hoser.

"Please? It won't be as fun without you there, and I already picked out what outfit you should wear tonight, and- and Russia is going to be pissed, and-"

"Fine," I grumbled in defeat, going so far as to hand him one of the keycards so that he could open the room for us.

I really should know by now not to let down my guard around him because the next thing I know I'm being crushed in a hug that would put an actual bear hug to shame.

"Thanks, bro! It's going to be awesome, you'll see! Now, let's order some room service. Or maybe we should go find a McDonalds and stock up for tonight. Where's your computer, Matt? I need to find the nearest MickyD's a.s.a.p.!"

I just sighed and closed the door quietly behind us as he stormed around the room and snooped through my bags, throwing clothes everywhere until he found my laptop and had parked himself on the bed I had chosen.

No matter how hard I wracked my brains in that moment to try and remember why I wanted this idiot all I could come up with was 'he's Alfred', which really isn't all that supportive.

* * *

The thudding of a heavy bass filtered through the street, heady and intoxicating to the point that I swore I could feel it vibrate through the cab. People were already lined up for an entire block to get in to the bar, so I really couldn't blame the driver's confusion when Alfred told him to drop us off right at the doors instead of near the end of the line. He didn't question though, and if he tried I never heard him; the moment the vehicle rolled to a stop Alfred had tossed over money and was pulling me outside.

The last time I had been to a non-sports bar had been five months ago when British Columbia had dragged me around with her for 'a night on the town'. I didn't get raging drunk despite her whole-hearted attempts, but it had been pretty close and the next morning had not treated me kindly; I was not feeling particularly keen to relive that experience.

"About time you made it, git," Arthur growled, appearing between the two bouncers that dwarfed him completely, "Everyone else is here. Prussia has already talked Germany into a drinking contest, Italy has started pole dancing, and France has already stripped down to his boxers."

Hmmmm, I wondered pleasantly, studying the island nation before breaking out into an evil- my version of evil- grin. If that furious look was anything to go by Papa was wearing his union jacks.

Arthur's gaze landed on me for the first time, and I avoided it as innocently as I could, but there was no way I was keeping my eyes down when Alfred wrapped his arm back around my shoulders.

"Ah, Canada, my boy. Glad you could make it." My gaze tore from studying my neighbour's face to focus on my founder's, who was trying to discretely give me the once over. It was only dark jeans and a deep red shirt- Alfred and I had argued and finally settled in this- but they were definitely more clingy than what I'm use to.

"Thank you for inviting me," I mumbled back, my words almost swallowed up by the sudden rev in music. The words were polite, but I knew he caught the undertone of sarcasm in them; we both knew that if Alfred hadn't forced my invitation he would have forgotten about me.

"Of course, lad. Now let's go," Arthur said with false cheer and slipped back between the bouncers with a beckoning hand.

I glanced back up at Alfred, raising my brows at him in a not so subtle hint that we should get a move on it while ignoring the annoyed jostling of the people around us. He thankfully understood for once and gently nudged me forward with a hand that had slid from my opposite shoulder to my scapula, sealing my fate by blocking the exit with his body.

Prussia was the first one to greet us when we finally wove our way through the throbbing mass of people, and shoved a pint of beer into both of our hands.

"Gotta start this party off right!" he shouted over the music, before pointing down onto the dance floor where Italy had left off pole dancing to grind on his German lover, "you have a ton of catching up to do."

"Sorry, bro! Matt decided he needed a last second wardrobe change," Alfred shouted back. As if it was entirely my fault. He was leaving out the McDonalds run we had made on the way here, and the twenty minutes he had insisted on in order to eat a stack of burgers that should not have been physically possible to eat... the fat ass.

"So not awesome," Prussia scolded me, or what I assumed was me since he was looking a bit too far to the right with glazed eyes.

"Sorry," I sighed, then froze when two arms snaked around my waist and pulled me back against a body that radiated a dry heat.

"Sup, mate! Haven't seen you in ages."

I leaned back my head and smiled up into the crinkling hazel eyes that stared down at me fondly,

"Last time I saw you, you were a bloody mess," I replied and patted his hands with one of mine as he laughed and squeezed me tighter before letting go. We had a bad habit of going full out against each other in some of our most bloody sports. You think hockey or rugby is bad? Try lacrosse with two nations who aren't afraid to get their hands dirty. Moments like this where we were touching without inflicting bodily damage are extremely rare and never lasted very long.

"As were you," he reminded me cheerfully, clicking his beer bottle against mine before taking a long swig from it which I copied, "I suggest you get ready, Russia has been asking around for you all night."

"Hide me," I hissed, but the traitor just laughed and winked at me. The fucker was obviously getting me back for punching out a few of his teeth while kickboxing with him; the bitchiness I understood, growing back body parts hurts like hell, but for him to use Russia against me was uncalled for. He was so going down.

"Privet, Comrade Matvey."

My entire body froze at the deceivingly child-like voice that came from my right, and my eyes darted around frantically for Alfred who I hoped would come to save me. No such luck, he was on the other side of the bar in a booth with Arthur.

"Privet, Ivan," I responded in my best mimicry of Russian, trying to ignore the full bottle of vodka, and the two shot glasses that were clutched in his hand. Yeah, if I were the bartender I'd let him have it too.

He smiled, leaned down and whispered something in the ear of a young male sitting in a booth beside us with his friends. Whatever was said had the blood draining from the brunette's face and the youth scrambling to round up his friends, saying something about the dance floor being a much better idea.

"Would you like to join me?"

Well, that was nice of him to ask, I had no idea I even had a choice! Wrapping my fingers around Jack's wrist, I pulled him down to sit in the booth beside me and smiled as sweetly as I could,

"Of course. How about we grab some over shots and just drink until the bottle is empty; the person who can still walk straight after wins."

Russia eyed me up for a second before inclining his head towards me in agreement while Jack was busy reaching out to snag someone from the crowd. Two seconds later and I found myself with a lapful of Holland, the guy already shitfaced and red eyed, while Australia laughed uproariously.

"Now it will be just like last time, c'mon, Russia, mate, get pouring," Jack smacked the table, leaving me to prop up Lars while the other two got the drinks ready. A shots lady walked by and left lighter in wares but heavier in cash, Porn Stars serving as our first shots while solving the need for more glasses.

I have never enjoyed the taste of vodka, beer has always been my preferred drink, so downing the vodka shots was one of the nastiest experiences in my life, and trust me, I've tried many nasty things. Usually I'm about as done is as Lars is before I'll even touch pure vodka, but this time I made do with gagging after every shot and used the beer as a chaser. We did switch up the drinks occasionally, each taking a turn to pick the shots and to pay, so it was no surprise when we were all trashed by the time the bottle was empty.

Just a little bit of wisdom: mixing alcohols is not good for your stomach.

Russia downed everything like they were water- which is what half of them pretty much were to him- while Jack cheated and asked for some pineapple juice to chase it down. Lars had left for the washroom after the fourth shot and hadn't returned, so I fully expected him to be stuck bowing down to the porcelain goddess for the rest of the night.

Pot and alcohol have pretty much the same relationship as England and France. Sometimes they are best buds, other times they try to kill each other in your body. I would know, on both accounts.

By the time the bottle was done Jack was finding everything hilarious and couldn't stand up, I was feeling like I should join Lars, and Russia was smiling creepily at us with unfocussed eyes. He was still the least affected out of all of us so I hadn't lied when I told Alfred that the last shots contest had been a fluke; and now hopefully Russia would believe me and let it drop so I could go back to staying in and watching Hockey.

"Here," a glass of what I hoped to be water was passed to me and I took a grateful sip while looking up at my saviour. Lars grinned down at me, looking much better now that he had puked his guts, mainly his stomach and liver, out. His eyes still reminded me of Gambit though, they were still that red.

"Thanks," I muttered, then groaned when a beer appeared right beside the glass.

"Time for you to let loose," another voice said, one I hadn't heard since the beginning of this nightmare, "Come dance with Awesome Me."

"Fuuuuuuck," I whimpered, but my two possible saviours were already heading to the dance floor also, one with a drink in his hand and the other clutching the other's shirt to stay standing. Russia was just watching with a victorious smile that only grew when I tried to stand up only to be hit with a wave of dizziness. Well fuck him. Next time I'll switch his vodka out with tequila and see how well he holds up after 8+ shots of that shit.

Prussia led me to the center of the dance floor, using a roundabout way that led me right past the table where a smashed England was currently complaining to a slightly less smashed America and France.

("I wish that boy would have more of a backbone. I don't raise my colonies to be pushovers! You know, I think he may have been cursed or something because I remember back when he was still a child he had such a mouth on him. Maybe I should try a counter curse, just in case... Now how did it go?"

"Hahaha! Give it up, old man. You know there's no such thing as magic!")

Maybe if I had followed Alfred like a good little shadow that most nations believed me to be I would have been better prepared for the night, but I didn't, and the music was addicting, Prussia was there, and the alcohol was invading my head. All I wanted to do was lose myself into the beat, and that was exactly what I did; I just felt.

Prussia really was a wonderful dance partner, his body moved perfectly against mine and pushed back with me as I dipped with the music. All around us were couples grinding together, creating a two way feed of energy that ebbed and flowed with the bass. His hands dipped into my back pockets as mine around loosely around his neck, and our hips grated together, meshing and melding together until all conscious thought left my brain.

What felt like forever in a few seconds later another body wrapped itself around my back and I leaned against the familiar heat of the outback, alcohol sodden brain not even noticing the sudden absence of Gilbert that was suddenly filled with firm muscle and the scent of burnt grass. My drink had been since emptied and passed on to a random person that I could only hope was one of the servers, but clear thoughts were well past my ability to think and I dropped it.

The flashing lights had hidden behind my closed eyes, but now almost blinded me when I opened them again to find my two best friends making out beside my head. Their hands and bodies tried to keep me pinned between them, but neither were a match against the Alfred-like strength that wrapped itself around my waist and pulled me out.

Oh, it was Alfred. I smiled blearily at him and glanced back, giving the two a quick nod to show I was okay before leaving them to fill in the space I had left.

"You seem to be enjoying yourself," was hissed directly into my ear, soft lips and breath caressing the skin. I shivered and pressed back into him, passing it off as an attempt to avoid the crowd rather than an excuse to feel his muscles flex beneath his shirt. I always loved when he got possessive about me.

Wait. What?

Fuck.

I cut off my thoughts just as Alfred pulled me into a seat beside him, and smiled at France who, still in just his boxers, was looking at me like a father who had just witnessed the most proud moment of his life. Arthur was crying about how he had tried to raise me into a proper 'English son', and how the 'French side had finally corrupted his boy', whatever that meant.

"I had no idea you could dance like that, mon petit chou," French cooed, and I smiled back dreamily and nodded.

"B.C. made me take dancing lessons with her when I went to go visit for the winter," I slurred, then leaned forward and motioned my other founding father to do the same so that I could whisper, "She took me to a few pole dancing classes, and Newfoundland and I took a few lessons in lapdancing."

In my defense we had been drunk when we signed up and pre-paid everything, and then blackmailed by Nova Scotia to actually go, but I doubted France cared about the why. He just looked excited to see it, and passed over a napkin and a pen.

"Write down your favourite song to dance to," he whispered back, sapphire eyes sparkling with poorly hidden amusement.

I did as he asked, not thinking anything of it, and promptly forgot all about what had happened the moment he got up and vanished. My other companions stayed where they were, and I poked Alfred's side in confusion,

"Why aren't you dancing?" I yelled, then pulled him closer like he had done to me and repeated it. He finally turned to me and shrugged.

"Just not feeling it," he yelled back, and opened his mouth to say more when the music suddenly slowed, and the DJ's voice came on announcing that the next song was a special request.

_Feel the fire, _

_Feel my love inside you so bright_

A jolt ran through my spine as my body recognized the first notes, followed by the returning feeling of wanting to move. I turned my head and caught Alfred's gaze with mine, not breaking it as I leaned forward and whispered the next words,

"_There's a sound and the smell of love on my mind_."

I could feel him tense up as I drew back, my brain sending out alarm bells in warning that quickly vanished when I saw the look of shock and desire that warred in his eyes.

_I'm a toy_

My hands guided his to my hips, then down my thighs,

_Come and play with me, say work now_

They tracked forward, onto his knees and then up his own thighs where I left his hands to trace his chest with nothing but his shirt between my palms and his skin.

_Wrap your legs_

_Around me, ride me tonight_

My body moved forward, not touching his except for my hands and the few inches of thigh pressed against him to keep me balanced as I stepped closer.

"_Sex, Sex, Sex,"_ I breathed along with the singer, my hips grating above his before my body slid down, hands tracing the same path they had made on the way up and ass slowly rising into the air. Just when my fingers grazed his knees, I curled them towards the inside of legs and pushed them apart, so that when I stood up again there would be room enough for my body between them.

But that wasn't what I wanted, well, not quite. Standing at full height, I swung my leg so that I was straddling only one before pivoting away from him and ended straddling the other leg. Lowering myself slowly, I placed both hands on his knee and brought my ass down to brush against a very interested Florida.

_I'm a man_

_I'm a Goddess_

_I'm a man_

_I'm a virgin_

_I'm a man_

_I'm a blue movie_

I grinned, tilting my head back to expose my throat, but not turning around enough to see him. I could hear him though, even with the music pouring from the speakers I could still hear the shaky indrawn breath as I swung my hips upwards while tilting my body forward.

_I'm a man  
I'm a bitch  
I'm a man  
I'm a geisha  
I'm a man  
I'm a little girl  
I'm a man_

Rising back up, I kept my hips rotating as I turned around to face him again, meeting his eyes dead on and letting him see how much I wanted him right then. With another grind of my hips, this time bringing me down, his eyes darted to follow, raking over my body before coming back with dark approval. I've never seen his eyes so dark, not since 1813 when he watched me writhing on the ground as he burned York, and it sent a thrill through my entire body that did not go unnoticed.

My hands rubbed against his legs again, leading me back up his thighs until my nose also touched the seam to his pocket, my eyes never leaving his as I murmured the next words,

"_And we'll make love together,"_

His muscles jerked beneath me and I could see the metal buckling under his hands as he gripped the legs of the stool.

_Slip and slide_

_When you're wet, you like to feel the blood flow_

I brought myself back up, going as if I were about to kiss him, before withdrawing my entire body and arching my back. My hands trailed up my body, starting at my thighs and slowly working their way past my stomach, catching on the bottom of my shirt just enough to draw it up a few inches.

_Not too fast_

_Don't be slow_

_My love's in your hands_

Stepping forward, I turned around again and placed my feet just on the inside of his, palms resting on his knees, and dipped down until my back was level and I could feel a bulge against my ass which I gleefully ignored for now. Resting all my weight on my legs, I reached back and curled my fingers around his wrists, bring his own hands into play against my abdomen, letting him feel my body as I ground against him.

_Skin to skin_

_Honey, hold tight_

_Come inside_

_It's a passion play just for you_

A small groan of need passed though my lips as his hands wondered, creeping over my body in rapt wonder. I leaned back against him, needing to be as close to him as I could in those few seconds I had. His lips brushed against my neck and I brought one of my arms back, tangling my fingers through his short hair and pressing him closer as the beat started to morph into the next song.

_Let's get lost in the magic place alone now_

_Drink your fill from a fountain of love_

_Wet your lips_

_And we'll make love together_

I slid down his body just enough that I could turn around, and pressed my face against his shoulder, breathing in the smell of his sweat and arousal, as my muscles went limp. It's a good thing he's a strong guy because I would have face planted right then and there if he hadn't wrapped an arm around me to keep me up.

"Matt?"

"Hmmm?" I asked, opening my eyes and tilting my head to look up at him. He looked a bit strained, and I really didn't know how he had any blood left to add that flush to his cheeks since there was something a bit further down south that was hogging that particular fluid.

"I think we should head back,"

What? I squinted, studying him under the strobe lights before it hit me.

"Sure, Alfred," I grinned and wrapped my arms around his neck as I turned to lick at the rapid pulse beneath his skin, "Let's head back."

* * *

Alfred remained silent during the entire cab ride, only speaking up in a tight voice to give directions, and then to thank the cabby when we arrived back at the hotel. His hand gripped mine in an unbreakable vice, which was probably a good thing since the alcohol was wearing off and the alarm bells were coming back. The consequences of my actions were finally seeping in; I had played with fire and was about to be burned.

I guess I've always been wary of Alfred, but at the same time I've always just taken his protection and passivity towards me for granted; I've always just assumed he would be there when shit hit the fan, and I've been right the majority of the time- but that's usually because he's starting it. This time I dangled the bait a bit too close and now it's being snapped up, hand and all.

"Ouch," I hissed through my teeth, glaring up at the face that matched my own, "What was that for?"

My thoughts had wrapped me so deeply within them that I hadn't noticed getting into the elevator and the steel doors sliding closed. I did notice being slammed and pinned against the wall with Alfred's face so close to mine that our noses bumped.

"Sorry," he muttered back, not sounding apologetic at all, but I forgave him the moment our mouths caught together in a less than chaste kiss. His tongue ran across my bottom lip, seeking entrance that I was more than willing to give, only to have him pull away swearing as the elevator door opened onto our floor.

Once again I found myself being dragged forward, and then pushed into our room with way more force than was needed. I had only a second to laugh about the death threats Alfred had made at the lock before I found myself pressed back up against a wall. This time I wrapped a leg around him and drew it up until it rested against the side of his ass, urging him to bring our hips closer as our lips tangled together again.

I opened my mouth without prompting this time, drawing his tongue towards me with mine, a direction he eagerly followed. My fingers played with the hem of his shirt for a few seconds before I came to a decision, broke the kiss, and pulled the fabric over his head. Alfred just chuckled and moved down to attack my throat, fingers questing along my collar bones until they curled into the neckline, and tugged.

The sound of tearing filled the room before my ruined shirt fluttering to the ground, making way for his hands to move over the newly exposed skin. My body leaned into the caress while melding against his, soaking up all it had to offer while begging for more.

"Fuck, Matt," he whispered, grinding his hips into mine, "Why did you have to get so fucking sexy?"

I just grunted and attacked his pants, popping the button and slowly drawing down the zipper until his arousal was visible, straining under his star spangled boxers.

"Not yet," he pushed my hands away with his own gun calloused ones before slowly sliding down, tongue and teeth marking a trail down my torso. My fingers threaded through the short golden strands of hair as my leg moved back down his to keep my balance, and my stance widened as he moved further between them. His own fingers were back to tracing the indent of my abs before dipping lower and catching on the waistline of my pants.

"You knew, didn't you," his nose brushed against my treasure trail, "You knew how much I've wanted you and just acted oblivious."

"No," I panted, trying to keep my hips still, "Only back in the 18th and 19th century, and I guessed again when Trudeau was around, but I didn't know you still-"

My breath caught as he nipped my stomach and his fingers gently undid the front of my pants before moving to my sides and down, bringing my jeans and boxers along with them until I was laid bare.

Blood rushed to my face and I quickly looked away from his blatant staring, but did nothing to cover up and protect myself from his gaze.

"And just when were you going to share that you're packing?" he asked in a deceivingly innocent voice, but I knew it was all for show when I dared to look and saw that hunger back in his eyes.

"After you shared first," I smirked and leaned my head back against the wall as a questing tongue licked down my shaft. My entire body froze up, cold against heat, fighting to anchor itself as Alfred took me into his mouth, massaging me with his tongue.

Drawing back after a bit he rasped out the order, "Spread your legs a bit more," before passing his lips over the base of my erection in a quick kiss. I did as he said, finally looking back to see his eyes focused on my face with a smug grin and I watched as those addicting fingers left their station at my hip to vanish into his mouth.

"Fuck," I breathed, watching as he coated them with his saliva, imagining my cock there instead, and what exactly those fingers would be doing.

"You ready?" he asked, taking off his glasses that had been sitting crookedly on his face ever since the removal of his shirt. I nodded and widened my stance a few more millimetres impatiently, gazing at him with firm expectation.

His grin widened as his fingers withdrew and went to press against my entrance before pushing in slowly. My body shifted as my brain processed the feeling of something foreign enter it, then stilled as the second digit entered and began moving. I stayed relaxed, though, keeping my eyes firmly locked on the ones that were peering back at me with glazed lust and impatient expectancy; which was most likely the exact same look he was getting back.

Alfred's tongue darted out, licking at the drop of precum that had gathered at my tip, lapping at the sensitive flesh as his fingers moved in and out, leaving me a quivering mess against the wall. I have complained to Alfred about his big mouth, but right now all I could do was moan and try to press closer into it. My hips had taken on a mind of their own by now, and I began rocking, forcing the fingers deeper and then sliding further down his throat. He took it all in stride, kept his gag reflex under guard and pushed in another finger, inciting a delicious burn that had me craving the next step.

"Do it," I panted, pushing at his shoulders, "Hand lotion is in the side pouch of my bag,"

Which he already knew being the snoop that he is.

"Got it,"

He gave my cock one last swipe with his tongue before withdrawing, the absence of his fingers leaving me with an emptiness I had never felt before. I willed my knees not to give out as I waited, pressing myself against the wall to try and stay balanced, but it was almost a lost cause when I heard the sound of fabric hitting the ground.

I glanced over towards the sound on instinct, only to find myself with a suddenly dry mouth and a surge of extra arousal that almost had me spilling early.

"Fuck you're hot," I stated, letting my eyes trace up and down his body. He did have love handles forming, but he also had a beautiful build and a full body tan that you knew had to be natural.

"Thanks," he said with full confidence, "So are you."

I couldn't help it, I burst out laughing as I held out my arms to draw him in. He came willingly, kissing me with a passion that had my bones melting and my mind turning back into mush, while smearing his own member with the lotion.

This time he didn't ask for permission; his hands travelled down to my ass and squeezed before lifting me up so I could wrap my legs around his waist. An excited shiver wracked through my body as I was pressed back firmly with superhuman strength. Gawd, I loved it and eagerly showed my appreciation with a buck of my hips and a moaned gasp against his mouth.

He slid into me gingerly, my body more than willing to accept him after all the years of waiting while also being apprehensive about being breached. My lungs expanded until they reach their full capability, before contracting in one long breath that expelled the last of the apprehension holding my muscles hostage. Alfred stopped, letting me adjust and held still, his muscles drawn tight in anticipation until I purposefully tensed my lower muscles and rocked against him.

That was all the permission I had to give, his mouth left mine to nip its way down my jawbone until he came to a spot just below my ear, marking it as he started to thrust.

My shaft left glistening trails of precum against his abs as I panted against his neck, my hips meeting his eagerly in a steady rhythm that I was helpless to stop. I just wanted more of him, all of him; my neighbour, my brother, my partner, and now my lover.

Now that I had him I couldn't get enough, his body was perfect against mine; we fit like jigsaw pieces together, completing each other while making each other. I could feel him marking me, his possessive desire to have me completely only fueling my own buried desires to compromise him just as completely. The feeling had scared me at first, it still did, but now it had an outlet where we could meet and clash, meld, without having to fear the consequences.

The wall bit into my shoulder blades, burning through a thin layer of skin that I really could not feel any sadness over losing. If anything it made me want to gloat over how I had snapped the world superpower's control. It wasn't romantic, or what most would want as their first time, but it was us.

I could feel my stomach muscles tightening, readying for release as I desperately tried to stop it, to keep savouring what I assumed to be my one night of bliss and fulfilled desires. Alfred was doing nothing to help keep my body in check; each thrust was aimed for my prostate, encouraging the soft moans that played as undertone to his more vocal desires.

The rhythm between us grew sporadic, more desperate and rough as Alfred lost his self control, his forehead pressing against the wall over my shoulder as his hands dug into my abused flesh. I tangled my fingers into the hair at the back of his head and tugged, forcing it back until his eyes were gazing into mine. The kiss that followed was just as forceful as the one in the elevator, starting with just the pressure of our lips until his tongue darted in to run along the roof of my mouth.

I moaned, curling my fingers tighter as my body clamped down around him when it felt the pulsing shudders of his body and the warmth of his cum that heated me from the inside. It was that feeling that was my undoing, and I had no intention of holding myself in check any longer.

My release coated both of our stomachs, easing the traction between our bodies as we slowed, the post orgasm glow relaxing the once tense muscles and gentling the heated kiss until our lips finally separated with a soft sigh.

"Ge' off meh... please" I finally grumbled after a few moments of just standing there, or being pinned there as was my case, and unhooked my legs from around his back after he pulled himself out. I'm pretty sure Alfred cursed as he let me go, his hands lingering and dragging over my skin before finally disappearing as he stepped back.

"Hey, bro, you're okay, right?"

"Yeah," I nodded, and winced at the slimy feeling of cum dripping down my legs, "Just need a shower."

His eyes searched me, looking for any kind of lie in the words I had uttered but unable to find any; I really was fine and my gaze met his straight on as proof. The staring match ended and he pushed back his hair from his face, messing it up more than I had, before grinning and walking past me into the bathroom.

"Alfred," I yelled, tearing after him while grumbling, "You're going to make the shower too crowded!"

"I heard that, dude!"

Ooops. "Sorry?"

* * *

**[Epilogue]**

"Matt, bro, we need to talk,"

"What did you do?" I asked without thinking, realized what I said, and quickly corrected myself, "I mean, what did I do?"

"That! That thing with the words and the looks and, well, you know! You're usually only like this during a really bad hockey season, and even then you're drunk and high at the same time!"

I set my book down gently onto the coffee table and crossed my legs, then uncrossed them when certain parts of my anatomy protested, "Alfred, I've always been like this. You just never noticed."

"I'm being serious! The other nations never noticed you before and now suddenly North Italy is giving you flying hugs, Holland is sending you tulips, Ukraine is asking about your states, Germany stares at you, and even Greece has started making conversation with you."

"Italy and I have been friends for a long time, Holland has sent me tulips since the end of WW2, Ukraine is like a mother to Saskatchewan, one of my _provinces_, Germany has this strange obsession with trying to keep an eye on me, and Greece and I are friends."

What I hated to admit was that he may have a point. My relations with the foreign countries had steadily climbed recently, and they were even starting conversations with me on their own.

"I bet it was Iggy. Stupid limey tried to cast a spell on you that one night, maybe he accidently got you possessed by a ghost or something," he paused and took a long look at my face, "Hey, hey Mattie, I was just kidding."

I could feel the blood rush from my face faster than my heart liked as my palms started sweating; England had cast a spell on me? That would explain a few things.

"Did he say what he was casting?" I snapped, than apologized, "Sorry, it's just that he got me into a lot of trouble with his magic business."

"No worries, bro. He just said something about a counter curse then mumbled a bit of gibberish that I couldn't make out."

"Well, fuck," I breathed, "He actually did something right this time."

"Are you sure you're okay? I have some burger patties in the freezer that I could dig out, and we could even deep fry a few if you want."

Pretty sure my face went from white to green, "I'm really okay, but thanks."

After he had talked me into trying Bacon Explosion and turtle shaped burgers I had done my best to avoid his version of cooking, which was just a step above England's. A very small step, so, thankfully, I was able to talk him into having poutine the next day. My arteries were still protesting even after a whole month.

"Just let me know if you want anything," he said, looking a bit put out that I wasn't going for his magic cure all. I'd like to see his face if I recommended Screech the next time he was feeling a bit off; I should ask Newfoundland if he still had the video from when Alfred first tried it.

"What are you thinking about?" he asked suspiciously, eyeing up my smile as if it were the prelude to some natural disaster.

"Nothing," I replied airily, "Oh, did you finish writing your speech for the next meeting?"

"Shit! I forgot, but I have some of the best ideas ever! You know that island of plastic in the ocean? Well, I was thinking we could build a huge net, trap it all, and then blast it off into the sun! Or we could collect all of it, cover it with a huge tarp and then make it into an amusement park with a water based theme and-"

I smiled at him, rested my chin on my hand, and leaned against the padded armrest of the chair, watching him as he waved his arms around frantically to demonstrate whatever he was talking about.

From now on I would have to watch what came out of my mouth, and if I started laughing when Alfred accused Arthur of brainwashing me with his 'voodoo magic' after one of our fights, well, who could blame me?

* * *

**That was fun! I'm sorry if they were horribly OOC, I just believe that Canada isn't the pushover that some people believe he is. Istead, he's super laid back, likes to keep to himself, and hates causing a scene. Alfred, on the other hand, loves being the center of attention. He's not stupid though. Maybe a bit nieve towards certain things, but you don't become a super power by being stupid. I do believe he has a darker side *cough*manifestdestiny*cough*, but he hides it a bit better than, say, Russia.**

**Side notes: 1) I may work on the epilogue a bit. I wrote it at 10pm. 2) sex scene is a tiny bit different from what I have on the meme. 3) Let me know what you think!  
**


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